


Snow Bunnies

by Artemis1000



Series: Adventures in Snow Hell [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Hoth, M/M, Skiing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 18:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12965586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000
Summary: Everybody knows that Cassian Andor is an expert on everything winter.Too bad he's not an expert at skiing. Cassian might not be able to ski, but he's a spy with spyly copycat powers, and that's just about the same, right? Nothing could possibly go wrong here.





	Snow Bunnies

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for Speed Prompt Day 2 _Snow Activities_ of **[Sniperpilot Winter](https://sniperpilotwinter.tumblr.com/)**.
> 
> Thank you for the prompt of _You invited me on a ski trip and I’m too embarrassed to tell you I don’t know how to ski._
> 
> I actually like the thought of Cassian being genuinely good at winter activities, but I couldn't resist playing with the idea of Fest being described as a densely populated, urbanized planet in Legends, and what being a city kid could mean for Cassian's winter skills.

If there was a known fact among the rebels stationed on Hoth, then it was that nobody was more vocal about enjoying the freezing temperatures than Cassian Andor. He would scoff and scowl whenever other rebels complained about their icy quarters, and roll his eyes when they griped about being unable to get a good grip on anything with the thick gloves they had to wear even indoors.

It was, as such, a known fact that Cassian, being as Festan as they came, was an expert in all matters snow and ice.

One thing Cassian was not, was a Pathfinder.

As an intelligence officer with expertise in sabotage, assassination and espionage and a penchant for recruitment, snow activities as such did not feature heavily in his job description.

It was a fact he became keenly aware of one nice almost-windless morning on which Bodhi slipped into the chair across from him in the mess hall and told him with a bright, giddy grin, “I have a surprise for you. Do you know what weather it is?”

Cassian’s brows arched slightly. “Cold weather?” he ventured cautiously and took another bite of his Iktotch toast. That seemed a safe answer. It was always cold on Hoth, this inhospitable ice planet made Fest look like a tropical world.

Bodhi laughed brightly. It was the kind of genuinely happy laugh that still made Cassian’s stomach tie itself into happy knots even a year into their relationship, just from knowing he was the one who had caused it. “That’s a good one,” he said and sipped on his tea. In the cold of the mess hall, the wafts of steam rising from his cup were downright ridiculously thick. “It’s skiing weather!”

Cassian’s happy stomach wriggle turned into an ominous one. “That’s nice,” he said, his tone of voice clearly betraying that there was nothing nice about it.

Bodhi rolled his eyes a little. “Don’t you start, too. Jyn already told me she’s not going outside until it’s spring. I told her there’s no spring on Hoth and she just _looked_ at me and said, ‘exactly.’” He took another sip. “She looked like she would eat me if I kept at it.”

Cassian nodded solemnly. You could always trust Jyn to have a healthy survival instinct.

“I haven’t gone skiing since my ice planet survival training at the academy, skiing isn’t common on Jedha. We…”

He trailed off, cheer replaced by a solemnity bordering grimness, as it often was when memories of Jedha came up in casual conversation, only for Bodhi to be hit all over again by the realization that he ought to speak of his homeworld in the past tense.

Cassian had seen the same in Chirrut, in Baze, in the other Jedhans and Alderaanians and Geonosians and all those who had lost their worlds to the Empire in one way or another. It had become a grief familiar to him, and he didn’t mind sharing it, but Bodhi’s day had begun so joyfully that it felt wrong for him to spend it mourning.

“Sounds like it’s time for you to go skiing,” Cassian said, his cheer faked, but no longer forced. His hand found Bodhi’s under the table, they tangled their fingers together.

“Well, for _us_ ,” Bodhi replied, and then he gave Cassian that hopeful look out of soulful brown eyes that always melted him no matter how firm he had sworn his resolve would be. “You’re coming, right? But if you’d rather spend your day off doing…”

“Of course I’m coming.”

It felt like an out-of-body experience of the more horrifying kind.

A smile broke through the somberness that had gripped Bodhi, he looked at Cassian as if he had plucked a star from the sky for him and not just agreed to his certain doom. “I love you,” he said. His thumb caressed the soft skin of Cassian’s palm.

 _I’m kriffed_ , thought Cassian.

 

 _Is Bodhi still going to love me when he realizes I can’t ski?_ Cassian had asked K-2SO in a flurry of last-minute panic, right between borrowing a pair of skis from the Pathfinders’ logistics droid and meeting Bodhi by the gate.

Panic did a lot to cloud the mind, which was proven once again as he had gone to K-2SO actually expecting sympathy.

 _That is unlikely. You look ridiculous,_ his best and oldest friend in all the galaxy had said, and gone back to picking icicles out of his gears as if Cassian wasn’t even there, hyperventilating right in front of him. He was always in a grouchy mood after a shift with the construction crew.

He was a spy, he told himself as he trudged to the hangar, he had been trained to improvise and adapt.

“You look nice.” Bodhi met him with a brilliant smile, he looked as if he would have kissed him if there weren’t too many people around for it to not end up awkward.

Bundled up in the complete Hoth outdoors outfit the Pathfinders wore, Cassian didn’t feel _nice_ , but Bodhi wore the same and he did look charming in it, scarf and goggles and everything. Cassian shuffled his feet awkwardly and clung to his shouldered skis. “Thanks. So do you.” A moment passed. “So. Do you want to…”

“Oh! Of course!”

They were both a little flustered as they hurried outside, grabbing a snow speeder and making it past the perimeter of the base in silence.

With Echo Base nestled into Clabburn Range, there was a large number of mountainous paths to choose from, Bodhi explained as they drove, but since neither of them had done much skiing lately, he’d asked around for some of the easier slopes – and there went Cassian’s last hope that they would be cross-country skiing, which while bound to end in humiliation seemed at least less likely to end in a bacta tank.

The ride on the snow speeder would have been nice, nestled close to Bodhi with his chest pressed against his boyfriend’s back. Only, every passing minute brought him closer to his doom, and thus Bodhi’s happiness deflating.

 

He was a spy. If he just used his powers of observation to copy Bodhi exactly he would be fine, right?

Right?

Somehow, his mental pep talk failed to convince Cassian.

It went well enough as he plopped the skis onto the snow – they suddenly looked twice as long as before, and Cassian couldn’t imagine getting them off the ground in any sensible manner.

It even went well enough as he followed Bodhi through the motions of attaching the skis to his boots, and grabbing the sticks and…

He made a panicked croak and dug his sticks into the snow to keep the skis from sliding out from underneath him.

Bodhi turned his head towards him. “Everything okay, Cassian?”

He nodded fervently, teeth gritted. He didn’t trust himself to speak without cursing.

Cassian looked down the mountainside.

They were far too high up for his comfort. What counted as slopes on Hoth was really just a steep of untouched snow which was a little less likely to kill you than all the other untouched snowy mountainsides on Hoth.

Right then and there, Cassian Andor decided that he hated mountains, snow and most of all the villain who had invented the abomination known as skiing.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get us turbo skis, Hoth’s temperatures are doing a number on the motors. We’ll have to make do with regular downhill skis,” he said apologetically.

Cassian gulped. “That’s too bad. Maybe next time.” Maybe never. He liked being alive.

He kept following Bodhi through the movements, pushing himself off with the sticks which had become his lifeline and keeping his balance and don’t wobble don’t wobble don’t woah that was steeeeee…

…p.

For long moments, Cassian remained perfectly still face down in the snow, his legs and skis in the air and awkwardly tangled.

Bodhi gave an alarmed yell of, “Cassian! Are you okay?”

Dignity reasserted itself and he sat up as well as he could with the long sticks of doom still attached to his feet. He wiped powdery snow from his goggles. After a moment of wiping, he gave up on them altogether and pushed them up to his forehead.

Bodhi came to an elegant swerving halt next to him and leaned down, offering a gloved hand to him.

“Do you need help getting up?”

Oh no.

He could hear it in his voice. Bodhi was using his _I know you’re not telling me the truth but I’m not going to ask_ voice. That one was normally reserved for the secret missions Cassian couldn’t speak of.

He let Bodhi pull him to his feet, just so his position wasn’t quite so embarrassing – it took a mere three tries until he could get up without the skis slipping away from him.

Then they stood there, Bodhi patient and slightly concerned, while Cassian tugged down his scarf and fiddled with it.

The game was over. He knew it. Bodhi knew it.

“I…” Cassian chewed on his bottom lip and looked anywhere but at Bodhi. He kind of wished his face was still covered by the scarf and goggles, they would have been nice to hide behind. There wasn’t even anything to look at, just more snow all around them. “…might possibly not know how to ski.”

Bodhi stood there in stunned silence for a moment. “But you’re from Fest!” he blurted out. “It’s in the rebel handbooks as an ice planet!”

He could read in Bodhi’s body language the exact moment he connected the dots. Cassian spoke often of his planet, a densely populated, urban planet with little nature beyond steep mountain ridges.

“You’re known for your skill in urban warfare,” Bodhi added.

Cassian nodded grimly. “ _Urban warfare_ ,” he echoed. He poked with a ski stick at the snow at his feet. “No ski slopes in the city. Some people use skis to move faster on foot, but there’s more ice than snow on the lower levels, and I always figured having to stash your skis before you can run and hide is more likely to get you killed.”

Bodhi’s face turned unreadable. “And you didn’t tell me why?” he asked, hesitant.

Cassian stifled a wince. That was Bodhi’s trying-hard-not-to-feel-hurt voice, and was far worse than the I-know-you’re-lying voice. He averted his eyes again. In hindsight, it felt foolish, childish even. As if he could have made it through the day without giving the game away, and ruining their day more than the truth would have.

“If I’d told you, you would have skipped skiing for something we can do together,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t want you to give up something you enjoy.” He stifled a wince. Yes, spoken aloud it sounded exactly as childish as it had sounded in his head.

“Cassian, I would have…” Bodhi just shook his head and gave a startled laugh. “I would have taught you how to ski. And yes I would have picked a beginner’s slope, but it would have still been fun. I’d been excited to spend the day _with you_.”

“Oh.” Maybe K-2SO had been more right than he realized when he called him ridiculous. “Yes. That makes a lot more sense than my line of thinking.”

They just stood there awkwardly. The wind had picked up and an Icetromper called in the distance, to be answered by the calls of its herd.

Cassian fiddled with his ski sticks. “Do you still want to?” he asked meekly. “Teach me?”

A smile grew slowly on Bodhi’s face again. “You know, we prefer snowshoes on Jedha.”

“So do we on Fest, when we leave the cities.”

Bodhi’s eyes went back to where they had parked their speeder. He was chewing on his bottom lip, thinking. “You know… snowshoes are part of the standard emergency gear on all speeders. We might be able to find that herd of Icetrompers.”

If he trusted himself to move without falling again, Cassian would have grabbed Bodhi and kissed him.

“Does that mean I can take off the skis now?”

“I guess. But I’m still teaching you. Just… somewhere flatter, where you’re less likely to get yourself killed.”

That sounded fair enough, even if Bodhi’s lack of faith rankled his pride a little. He probably deserved that, after the spectacle he’d made of himself.

Cassian nodded. “It’s a deal.”

Without the skis hindering him, it took exactly two steps to Bodhi’s side to seal this deal with a kiss.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Snow Bunnies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201207) by [Artemis1000](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis1000/pseuds/Artemis1000), [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)




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